A Tad Victorian
by HecateA
Summary: Remus has a lot of useless information in his head, but luckily his favourite customer doesn't seem to mind. Oneshot. Flower Shop AU.


**Author's Note: **I... literally lay in bed and typed this out in a note because it hit me smack in the forehead at like 1:00 a.m. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

**Warnings: **NA

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**Stacked with: **MC4A; Terms of Services; Shipping War

**Individual Challenge(s): **Gryffindor MC; Hufflepuff MC; In a Flash; Seeds; Bloomin' Time; Stinks; True Colours

**Representation(s): **TAs Remus and Tonks

**Bonus challenge(s): **Middle Name; Second Verse (Ladylike); Chorus (Bee Haven); Demo (Odd Feathers; White Dress; Wabi Sabi; Bee Haven; Creature Feature; Surprise!)

**Tertiary bonus challenge: **NA

**Word Count: **573

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_**Shipping Wars**_

**Ship (Team): **Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin (Technicolour Moon)

**List (Prompt): **Spring Medium 2 (Flower Shop AU)

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**A Tad Victorian**

Remus eyed the customer lurking in the back of the store. She was a regular—the bright pink hair would have made her memorable regardless, but she was around every week. He quite liked her; one time he'd wrapped up her purchase and asked her who she kept buying flowers for, and she said herself. Supposedly, an awful boyfriend had taught her not to rely on others for pretty things, and so there she was. Remus could respect that immensely.

"Having difficulty choosing?" he called out from behind the counter. He turned around it and approached her, making his way down the narrow store. The walls were packed with racks of flowers and succulents and potted plants. Vines and spider plants hung from the ceiling, too. One was getting so long it brushed his hair; he kept forgetting to trim it, and all of his employees were too short to notice.

"Sorry," she said. "I know you must be looking to close soon."

"It's no worry," he said. "It _is_ a big choice."

She grinned at him. Her name was Dora, he'd found out months ago because she'd sent her mother a Mother's Day arrangement and had signed it. She'd then told him it was short for Nymphadora, which she hated but had told him because it only seemed fair, since he had a name tag on.

"You don't have to humour me, I'll grab something and get out…"

"No, no, I'm quite serious," Remus said. "The Victorians really believed in the meanings of flowers. They actually had a whole language built around it, to send each other messages or gossip or romance each other under the nose of their fiancés or dissaproving parents."

Tonks laughed.

"Well, you're the authority on this one. Maybe I can pick by spelling out a message. I'm looking to ask someone out."

Ah. So there was a new boyfriend. Ideally, he wouldn't be awful.

"Hmm," he mused, scanning through his memory. "Well, we have a smaller selection towards the end of the night, as you know, but we should be able to manage it… The trouble with this as well is that the Victorians were a dramatic people, you see. Everything was love declarations and vows of eternal devotion or heartbroken pining…"

"I rather start just a tad Victorian," she smiled. "It doesn't have to be exact either. What would you pick?"

"Well, personally I would recommend a rosebud. They're for confessions, you see."

He handed her the nicest, healthiest of the flowers that he had left. She studied it for some time, twirling it in her fingers.

"Do you work tomorrow night?" she asked.

"No," he said. "But you can definitely come back tomorrow for a wider selection, and somebody else will be happy to help..."

"Oh no, this will do, » she said. She tucked the rosebud in the pocket of his apron and shot him a smile as she backed out of the tiny shop.

"Let's meet at that Indian place down the street from Diagon Alley's entrance, how does 7:00 sound?"

His dropped jaw must have been answer enough because she smiled, even if he couldn't recover from his shock fast enough to answer. Still, he smiled goofily when she was gone.

He supposed that he was responsible for flowers now.

It was a good feeling.


End file.
